Breaking Reality
by Attention Defi- Oh look a dog
Summary: From Harry's seventh birthday he began to literally 'fall' into new, odd worlds. They were always too peculiar for him to take seriously would write them off as dreams, but on the night he was supposed to be sorted into Hogwarts a trip into the past proves how very real this all actually is. WARNING FOR TIME TRAVEL AND ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSES.
1. 1: Black, White and all Shades of Grey

The idea was simple, a boy traveling through dreams. But then as I began to write it all I could see was Harry falling through the earth and traveling through timelines through parallel universes. For Harry to drop into Tom's world and likewise. And for them to figure out what is tying them together, why this is happening. This fanfic should hopefully get very complicated.

Warnings (so far as intended): Time travel and Alternative Universes. Harry still lives mainly in canon.

**Summary:** Harry was seven the first time it happened. The earth seemed to disappear from beneath his feet and suddenly he was in a whole new world. Tom was seven the first time he saw Harry. The earth literally disappeared beneath the boy's feet and suddenly it was like he was never there. Tom didn't expect to see him again. But it seems like something keeps bringing the two together.

**Disclaimer:** I do not claim ownership in anyway what so ever over Harry Potter. I do however wish I did.

* * *

**Interlude**

Harry wasn't born ordinary. No witch or wizard is born '_ordinary_'. In fact you could say to be born as such would be rather '_extraordinary_'. But a word like extraordinary is derivative of ordinary. Harry could never be described as extraordinary and certainly not extra ordinary.

No, Harry Potter could only put under synonyms as obscure, unusual and unique. Unusual because of his family situation. Obscure because of the circumstances he was born. Unique because for everything that he is, everything that he's meant to be, and everything that is Harry Potter is one of a kind.

The prophecy was done. The monster, the _thing_ Voldemort had created his own demise. Perhaps it was for the better. He was no longer the charming man he used to be. He no longer gained subjects with seductive whispers for power, for freedom. He tortured for pleasure, his laugh twisted. He was no longer clever, he was a rash. His attack on the Potters was evidence of such. And because of his paranoia and fear of anyone holding the power to bring him down he created a prophecy. A prophecy he had intended to destroy.

Harry was left in the security of a basket and a note. The night was set, his parents dead. Tonight Harry awaited his fate with the DuRsleys.

A soft white light encircled the baby. A pale beauty in a white stola appeared, it was as if the white hue created her. She stared down at the small babe. Her eyes reflected nothing but sorrow and pity.

'_I'm Sorry_'

Her voice seemed to carry with the wind. She pressed a soft kiss to Harry's lightning bolt scar. The scar in turn glowed gold. The gold was like a gentle hum, buzzing it seemed as though the full force of the light was trapped beneath the skin.

The wispy white light that had been surrounding them traveled through the air much like smoke. It fluttered and twirled carrying the pale beauty with it.

Harry all the while slept through the entire event unknown to him the fate that was forced upon him.

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Black, White and all Shades of Grey**

He watched the storm clouds gather. It seems they were in a rush. He didn't mind. The rain always gave him a sense of calm. He knew however he needed to return to the Dursleys soon. He had been allowed out to roam free as he had no more chores to do for the day.

Harry basked in this small piece of freedom. The Dursleys, for a family that paid him no significant attention they sure did trap him. He could always feel their eyes on him. Observing, judging and always watching. Their presence always weighed down on him thickly.

Harry wondered under the shelter of some tall green trees. If the rain wasn't going to come they won't catch this boy unguarded! He smiled to himself pleasantly. He looked around this particularly park. Now he'd never seen place before. And here he thought he knew all there was to know about Privet Drive.

His curiosity to explore these new grounds were strongly weakening his will to stay dry. He looked up at the heavy grey clouds contemplating how much time until they dropped. Deciding he had plenty of time, he set off and about these woodland grounds.

The grass was lush and green. They trees were tall and wild. They grew where they pleased. Eventually the main road was out of sight and all around him was a canopy of trees. He couldn't bring himself to turn back even as thee sky gave a low rumble.

The rain began to pour harshly and suddenly. His pace quickened as a more reasonable part of his mind insisted he turn back. He didn't want to. He could feel a toothy grin spread across his face at the rain tried to pelt him through the trees. And then he came to a halt.

He was in what could only be described as a garden or perhaps even a very flowery park. All around everything was arranged perfectly from the pattern of flowers to the patches of grass. It lay amongst the trees of the wilderness cocooned by the English forest. The simplicity of the word 'garden' did the size of the abyss of beauty no justice. It stretched across the land. The trees at the other side of this garden were nothing but lego men from where Harry stood.

He stepped into this 'garden'. It was adorned with sand stone bricks and paths. He was sure this would have made a very beautiful sight if the sky was open and blue, not the grey and dark shroud it was today. It made a bitter sweet sight forced under the dank dark gloom of the storm. All plant life drooped as it was pelted with rain.

Looking down as his soaking clothes it would seem there was no better time for a rainy stroll in the garden than now. He was already wet. He could hear the trudge of his dirty sneakers pressing against the sand stone paths with every step.

Where did this garden come from. He couldn't find any path ways leading into it or otherwise leading out. From his his so far short life Harry had always observed that there was always a path to lead into something worth looking at. Although there was paths all over the park in itself none of them lead into the forest or more simply none of the led to civilization that was outside of the forest. And as unfortunate as it was Harry needed to return to the Dursleys sometime so having a direct way out would have been helpful.

But then to his childhood amazement he reached an entrance to a maze. The hedges where a good five heads taller than him. What he found most curious about hedges however where the red roses that were growing intertwined. But choosing to not ponder on the mysteries of life for long he set in traveling through the maze.

Going home could wait.

The ferns where a calming dark green, but amongst them they Harry what felt like impossible choices. Left or right? One way lead him to more choices, the other to frustration. Frustration to have to go back and know he made the wrong turn. Frustration that his wonderment would have to be momentarily paused.

The rain had stopped by now. His hair was beginning to regain its life, fluffing up in volume. His over sized shirt was no longer sticking to his skin for dear life. He barely recognised the changes, but would admit he felt a fair bit more comfortable than he had when he first entered his garden maze. And then he was there, what he assumed was the goal of this maze. After a good forty minutes of decisions and walking he made it to what he could safely assume was the middle of the whole maze or in his own dear opinion 'the whole point in that blasted walk'. Blasted being a word he had earned from his Uncle Vernon. He always said blasted when he was upset or vexed by something or someone.

In the heart of a maze was a sizable amount undisturbed grassland, shot, bang right in the middle sat am inconspicuous gazebo standing proudly. From every side of the fern walled square was an exit leading out from this green puzzle. Including the one he just came from.

A light shower was starting again. Wanting to return to the Dursleys at least semi dry as he was now Harry ran into the shelter of the gazebo. The gazebo itself was wood, painted a dark grey blue. The roof had a darker a slightly more purple-blue sheen to itself. He clambered in. He floor was a hard solid stone the same shining polished stone that went into the large round table the gazebo seemed centred around.

He kneeled on the wooden bench that stretched across the gazebo to get a good look at the table. It was shiny and smooth, marble perhaps. He was hoping for more than that like a secret message engraves into the stone. He sighed and rested down along the wooden seats. They too where polished and smooth. Looking out into the dreary rain he couldn't help but be satisfied.

Of all his birthdays he had celebrated so far this was certainly the most enjoyable. He fiddled with his hand upon the table. He'd have to go back when this rain stops. He looked into the grey again. It may be dark and stormy but the presence of light was still obvious signifying the sun was still high and glowing.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply taking in the distinct scent of wet dirt. He felt something shake. _Earthquake?_ His eyes flipped open. Nothing. He must have imagined it. He closed his eyes again. The quacking feeling was stronger this time, something definitely moving. Was it the way he breathed? His eyes opened more urgently than before. The world was shaking. Or rather the gazebo was shaking. The seat he was in cracked. It just snapped as if some hefty force was pulling in down. Harry expecting to drop into a heap of broken wood enviably scratching himself up could feel his heart pumping. But it never happened.

It felt of though he had just been dropped. As if the ground below him suddenly vanished. And as he was engulfed in black, in the dark and the earth he was once sitting upon began to turn into a mere speck he realised that's exactly what happened to him. His stomach rose and a tingling sensation ran through his entire body Harry decided now at only a meager seven year old he had met his unforeseen doom.

What had he done to deserve such a fate? He worked day and night for the Dursley family. He allowed them to pass their snide remarks about him, about the parents he never knew. All he'd ever been was grateful to them. And yet somehow that wasn't good enough. Somehow some higher entity decided that Harry was not worth the blessing of life, something out there decided Harry should be sucked in a hole through the face of the earth.

I must be going to hell he thought miserably. He had heard of this 'hell' place a few times. It was drilled into him from the moment he started school that if he was a good boy he'd got to heaven. Heaven a wonderful place where no need goes unfulfilled. But bad boys got sent to hell. Hell in the fiery pits beneath the Earth. Harry had always been a patient boy with a mild temper, sure he got _annoyed_ at times but never had he felt this all consuming rage. Rage that he had to die now after such a short life. And on his birthday!

And as his every thought turned dark his rage dispersed and was replaced with sorrow. But then Harry hit the ground. Well rather he hit _a_ sort of ground. He had no idea what exactly he had hit. The fall felt as though he had been pushed over a block. Unpleasant? Yes. But certainly not what he expected.

He groaned and softly picked himself up. He was standing at the platform of stone stair cases leading into a building of grand architecture. The world was no longer vibrant and colourful. Everything was black, white and all shades of grey.

Bodies hustled and bustled. Women in skirt and dresses. Men in ties and suits. There was not a soul around without a hat. He took a step down, away from the extravagant building. What caught his eye most of all was spectacular fountain. Water shot out of it at hurdling speeds splashing into it's own private reservoir.

But that's when he realised it.

The deafening silence. There was not a sound, not a peep. With all these people, with all this hubbub there was not a single whisper, laughter, echo of shoes clacking against the concrete or rustling of clothes. There was nothing. And then even more to his distress a tall indistinguishable man walked right through him.

But then also at that moment he saw it. He saw a boy. A young boy, as black and white as everyone else around him staring straight at him. Not through him, but at him. Harry could have sworn that this boy could see him. But that would be impossible, wouldn't it?

He stared back at the boy. Not daring to blink. With each second they continued to watch each other the more certain Harry was this boy could see him. A silent step forward he approached the boy. Another step, and another. He was getting closer. The boy didn't stop watching his eyes trailing over Harry.

And then he felt it. The floor shifting unevenly. He glanced down at the rumbling floor. It cracked. Carefully he took another silent step. The floor began to disintegrate. With wide eyes Harry quickened his pace towards the boy who could see him. The floor perishing behind him revealing the darkness that had taken him in before.

His quick walk turned into a run, everything was disappearing not just the pavement beneath him. The people, they too where vanishing. The boy was still there, he didn't fade. Harry stretched his arm out in an attempt to reach the boy before the ground took him in. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to drown beneath the earth. By some fluke he ended up here. In a silent realm, but that was still life.

But much to his despair he was too slow. He was taken in. Taken into the the free fall that made his heart flutter. He saw the world fade again. The cement flooring he fell from restitched itself together. He imagined the world kept carrying on above him as he sunk beneath it. He imagined what might have happened if he reached the boy across the fountain. Would he have been solid like the ground he walked across had been? Was that boy special, different from the rest. He must have been if he could see Harry while other walked right through him.

Full of fear as to what will happen next Harry continued to fall. And once again he hit the ground just as he had before. Again it felt no worse the a small shove onto his back. He looked up and around. He was lying across the wooden gazebo benches that had cracked just before his short and peculiar journey. They weren't broken in the slightest like they have been before he fell into that black hole. Harry picked himself up groggily. He must have fallen asleep. That was the only way to explain what had just happened.

Shakily he lowered himself to the floor. He felt unsettled. As if at any given moment the floor would shake and give in, opening up to reveal a gaping black hole. It made no sense, the earth wasn't black beneath it, he learnt that much in school. There was dirt, there was a core, there's magma! Not some mysterious black abyss that leads you to distant lands. He looked up at the sky, the cloud had started to part. Although it was still light outside there was an orange tinge to the clouds that had parted. They sky was still relatively bright however. But he knew he should get home now and stop getting distracted.

As he made if safely through the forest he was relieved to be back on the main street. Perhaps today was a little too much adventure, dream or not. He wouldn't forget this any time soon. The entire walk back to Dursleys all he could think about was the black and white world with no colour and no sound and how could anybody live there. Lastly he thought how he should cut back on reading so many fantasy novels, that dream was too realistic for his liking.

* * *

Tom Riddle decided to skip mass today. He doubted anyone would take particular notice anyway. On the chance they would notice his lack of attendance he was consoled in the fact they wouldn't report it. He they disliked him just as much he disliked them even if they where too proud to admit it. If the Churches nuns reported him to the Orphanages mistress, sure it would allow them the satisfaction to know that he would would be punished for his misdoings but it would also mean he would _have_ to continue going to Church.

As he wondered the main streets of London he allowed himself to wonder why the Church maidens disliked him so much. He had never actually done anything in particular they could hold him against, he was sure that if he had they would have removed him from Church permanently. But he hadn't. He never spoke loudly with other children during mass. And yet ever since he could remember they all kept as far away from _him_ in particular. He could see them send withering glares and pursed lips at every opportunity.

He dismissed this. They were empty minded fools easily influenced by the promise of immortality after death. He couldn't believe such a fantasy. Such a whimsical thing these people came up with to refute death. An easy answer, a soft pillow to fall on when times were down. He refused to believe in such a good, such a simple God. He refused to believe life was that simple. That trees grow because a higher power allowed it. That magic was evil and those with it should be burned to the steak.

He sat down briefly near the fountain. He was hungry, the food at the orphanage was meager these days, more so than he remembered them being. He eyed some of the obviously wealthy men walking by. Surely they wouldn't miss a shilling. The thought was temping, although he'd never stolen before this wasn't the first time the idea came to him. It would be so easy to just take something he wanted. Small things of course, taking something big, something precious would be obvious. Someone wouldn't let it go if a thousand pounds went missing from their bank. They would attempt to find the culprit. But if a five pence happened to miraculously vanish from their account who can they blame? Without leads a small crime has to go unpunished. There's no room for it.

As Tom considered whether or not it would be in his interest to take a dime from a stranger his eyes ran across a rather peculiar looking boy. His clothes were completely repulsive and obviously too big for him. His hair was a shameful mess. He briefly touched his own neatly combed hair with a frown. The boy was looking around wildly even though he was drawing so much attention to himself no one lifted even a head his way. Perhaps he was a regular on the streets, maybe people chose to ignore him so he'll go away. Tom felt his frown settle further. If that was so why had he never seen this spectacled boy before.

He was about to dismiss this odd occurrence as another meaningless distraction when a man obviously a good couple of feet taller than the boy came walking straight into him. He would have cringed at the unfortunate impact. Would have if it actually happen. The man walked straight through the boy. It was then the boys eyes trailed onto him. Tom felt his heart stop. Who was this boy.

Why can't anyone see him. _How can they walk through_ _him_. Tom chose to continue watching cautiously. A woman walked through the boy this time. It was really happening, he didn't just imagine it. Could this be a ghost. Maybe he really is as mad as that fool Billy Stubbs kept insisting. Then the boy started to walk. He was walking towards him. Tom contemplated running.

The boy was getting closer but Tom couldn't bring himself to leave. This was such a rare opportunity, he had never seen anything this before. He wasn't sure if he'd ever see it again. The boy was approaching a step at a time. Then a crack appeared beneath him. Tom thought people would surely at least notice that. But no one did. The boys pace was getting quicker. He was getting closer. The ground behind him was disappearing and the people just walked right over it. What is going on, he really was going insane. He'll never admit that one to Billy Stubbs.

The boys arms were stretched out, he was so close now. Tom could see the eyes that were so wide in panic were actually green. Bright and vivid and so full of emotion. He had never seen anything like it before. He almost wanted to reach out to the boy. Not let him get sucked in by that gaping black hole that was trying to eat him. His fingers twitched. No he can't. He doesn't even know who this boy is. But to save him would be the only way to find any answers. But if he were to try and pull the boy with him how would he know he wouldn't be sucked into that gaping black hole either.

And that settled it. With fists clenched tight he refused to budge. Not that he had a choice in the end. The boy fell. His eyes haunting. Loud. Green. So very green. The hole close, the ground that seemed to have eaten itself up was regurgitating itself back out again recreating the previous setting. Not even one head turned.

* * *

Did a lil' re-edit mostly because I wanted too add more details. I wanted to leave this chapter honestly with Harry because he is the protagonist of this story but I felt it was too vague and mysterious, so adding a little of Tom Riddle's insight I thought might have been interesting... I hope it was. After the re-edit it felt fairly more pointless.


	2. 2: Mad Men

Chapter two out already! Yay! I have big plans for this story I just hope I can achieve them without ruining everything.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**Mad Men**

It had been over a year since that incident in the park and as much as Harry tried to tell himself it was a simply a dream he couldn't full believe his own words but even so he pretended that he did anyway, a small part of his mind taunted him.

_If it didn't happen then why do you avoid that park._

He especially ignored that pesky voice that would occasionally ring in his head. He didn't need this, today was to be a good day the Dursleys weren't home not a single one in sight and he had already completed his list of chores that where to be done today. Harry took this time to raid the kitchen cupboards for a couple a snack foods that he would never be permitted to eat in any other circumstance. He wasn't sure what time they would all return today, it was the Saturday a week before Dudley's ninth birthday.

The week upcoming to Dudley's birthday was like an annual event in the Dursley household. Vernon and Petunia would spend their spare time each day making sure Dudley got only the best gifts and usually in abundance, last year he received fourteen. Harry shuddered at the thought of Petunia and Vernon bonding over a bow-tie for Dudley.

But with the house empty Harry set off a on a journey, he was going to return to that park he came across on his seventh birthday. He was almost nine now, he needed to remove this superstition, he had to prove to that voice in his head that it was simply just a dream.

He quickly found the English forest bordering the main streets, he knew that amongst it was that garden so vivid in his memories. And right enough a straight walk amongst the trees he eventually found himself once more in the garden heath.

It was definitely a sight to behold on a sunny day just as he had always suspected. The plants and flowers were all pointed towards the sun, he was sure if they had faces they would be smiling. As much as he wanted to bask in with their bliss he came here with a single mission, fun could wait.

He eyes locked straight onto the garden maze, he noted with pride they weren't as tall as they had been the year before meaning he had grown. Walking in he still made his fair share of blunders having to turn back more than once but he made it in a matter of minutes.

The place hadn't changed a bit, he went to sit at the gazebo. He sat there, exact same place as he sat once before. Nothing. He looked around, still nothing. He knew he couldn't leave straight away however, before he must have been sitting here for a good half an hour before he 'fell asleep'

He took the time to ponder on the park, it was just as vacant today as it has been that rainy day. A beautiful sunny afternoon and not a soul in sight. He would have accepted that it was just an abandoned park lost amongst shrubbery if it wasn't in such great condition. All the plants obviously had someone tending to them and even though this park was surrounded by nothing but trees there was not a misplaced leaf in sight of the territory.

Time ticked away and Harry grew impatient. Nothing was happening he wasn't _disappointed_ now was he? If anything he should be glad, he wasn't crazy, he wasn't a freak, he simply had an odd dream that he had once a year ago.

He leaned his body weight into his arms that were on the table to lazily raise himself up planning on leaving now that he had his answers. The marble table cracked. That was odd. He wasn't that heavy, in fact one could claim he was actually very light! He lightly traced the crack, and waited for anything else to happen.

Nope, nothing. It was just a coincidence the table happened to crack. Turning he went to walk out of the gazebo when his foot came into contact with nothing. As he fell he got a glimpse of the crack through the middle of the table lead to a deep hole.

This was real? No it was a dream! That's what he was here to prove! Even as he denied the authenticity of this all his heart continued to pump excitedly. Free falling was an incredible experience, his stomach raised, his heart fluttered and a tingling sensation would run throughout his finger tips and toes.

What also come with the feeling was the instinct that yes, yes this is when you die. And because of that instinct Harry screamed. He screamed for a moment but he stopped when his head caught up to his fear, the fall didn't seem to be ending any time soon which helped him relax.

He looked down towards the direction he was falling, his glasses protecting his eyes from the whiplash of the wind. He must be falling at an incredible speed, his hair seemed to be permanently spiked behind him. Harry was sure that if he were to turn his head just a little to the side that would be a farewell to his glasses. That would be a tough one to explain to the Dursleys.

He fell into the ground face first forcibly colliding onto the dirt with an thump. Although slightly winded he was altogether fine. He picked himself up and dusted himself down. This was different although it was dark there was obviously colour reflecting in the darkness.

He was in a forest, it wasn't the traditional English kind he was used to. The trees here had thick sturdy trunks and many with low tangling branches. Looking up he saw saw hints of a crescent moon peeking between trees.

Harry had to admire this forest, in the dark on the night the leaves looked black and ominous, some on the trees had thick protective roots raising from the ground looking to trip over anyone not paying attention. He had to be careful that he wouldn't become one of the trees victims to its tricks.

He maneuvered the area, unsure what exactly he was supposed to do here. He supposed he'd just have to keep moving until something pulled him back home again or more likely until he 'woke up'. A snap of twigs that definitely wasn't done by his own shoes shook Harry from his thoughts. He froze up, and scanned all around. It was too dark to make out any proper figures aside from the obvious intimidating forms of the trees.

He tried to widen his eyes to let more light in hopes that perhaps then he would be able to see better. "State your name." A thunderous voice sounded behind him. Harry jumped, unfortunately he jumped backwards right into the figure.

"State your name." It said again, if anything it sounded more dangerous than before.

Harry looked up frightened and unsure what to do himself so he did exactly as told. "Harry Potter." He figure perhaps lying would only serve to get him in more trouble. Harry would grudgingly admit he had never been a good liar or deceiver.

"You claim to be Harry Potter?" The figure sounded angry. Harry tried to get a good glimpse at their face but they were both hooded in a dark cloak (possibly black? He couldn't say for sure in the night) and a white mask.

The figure shoved Harry into into the nearest tree.

"You insolent child, how dare you lie to me." They all but hissed, Harry saw a hand draw back and the proceed towards him. He scrunched up as protectively as he could in such a position where his feet didn't even tough the ground but the hand never came. Instead the figure suddenly stiffened as if miraculously frozen and then gently a gloved hand brushed his hair away from his forehead. He heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Harry Potter..." The masked figure trailed off.

"That's impossible." They uttered, the cloaked figures voice was so soft as if they just saw something amazing, spectacular even. That confused him most of all, what was spectacular about himself. As if to answer his question he felt a finger trace his scar ever so gently.

And if that were to be an answer all it did was confuse Harry further. The figure dropped Harry on the ground gently as if he was precious artifact that would easily break.

"It's not safe here, you must come with me." The figure turned hastily leading Harry through the forest. Their cloak billowed behind them.

Harry felt hesitant, he considered running but didn't like the idea of being caught by this psychopath especially since they seemed to have calmed down now. They approached a large spacious heath which instantly made him think of the garden he had originally arrived here from. This one wasn't decorated beautifully with bright flowers or sand stone paths. This place was all mud and grass with a small tents scattered about. There was not a soul walking the grounds. The hooded figure lead Harry into a particular tent that was marked with a totem poll at the front. Now that was interesting, he wondered what the symbols on the totem poll stood for. Upon entering however Harry saw something very intriguing indeed.

"It's bigger on the inside." He uttered but received no reply, Harry gasped silently in delight upon seeing lanterns floating about the roof of the tent. His amazement was quickly replaced with dread as he got a good glimpse of what awaited inside, masks and cloaks, ten no twenty people stood there all masks pointedly turned to him.

"I bring you, Harry Potter!" The one that lead him here called out to the anomalies. Gasps and whisper spread out the room like a Mexican wave. One of the masks as Harry had taken to calling them in his head stepped forward. This one however had a single golden star upon his cloak. Maybe he should call this one Star

"Surely you are joking! That's just a small boy" They sounded outraged. Harry decided not to hold them against the small boy comment, they were obviously older than he was, he also didn't want to risk bringing any attention to himself what so ever even if it was obvious he was what they were all peering at.

"I also thought it was too good to be true, but look at his forehead." Harry assumed this particular person was a male from the deep of their voice but he couldn't know without truly seeing who it was under the mas. The 'man' he guessed pulled up Harry's fringe showcasing his forehead to the crowd.

Impressed awes rang throughout them all. Harry felt incredibly uncomfortable with the unwanted pedestal he was being placed upon.

"You can all feel the magic pumping behind this scar! He is the chosen one." The chosen what.

"He is the king we were promised!" King!?

"He shall lead us to battle and to victory!" This was absolute garbage, he was Harry. Just Harry. No King, no leader and certainly no '_chosen one_'! Harry attempted to voice his opinion.

"Now hang on just one second her-" He sputtered but his voice was lost on them all. A gloved hand grabbed him and pulled him to the front where laid a stone platform with intricate pattens carved upon it. The crowd all bowed down in front of him Harry could no longer tell any of these cult members apart from the first one who led him here.

A crown was placed upon his head.

"No you don't understand, this isn't for me." He squirmed under their allegiance trying to get someone to hear him but ironically none of there people who had taken to worshiping him so quickly would listen to what he was actually saying, his pleas lost as they were only focused on completing whatever the hell this was that they were doing.

Another cloaked man wrapped a rich red ceremonial robe over Harry's shoulders.

"Stop it!" He screamed throwing the red robes onto the dirt floor. He took the delicate golden crown and shoved it harshly into what seemed to be the ring leaders arms. This at least received their unwavering attention.

"You, all of you! I have no idea who any of you are and I have no clue what exactly you want from me." He paused and scanned his eyes across them all.

"But am not this '_chosen one_' you're looking for. I'm Harry! Just Harry." He didn't care any more if they'd chase him he was just about ready run from these mad men. Just as he said that one the crazy cloaked lunatics took a step towards Harry.

"You claim you are not the chosen one but you do not deny you are Harry Potter?" Harry hesitated, he was Harry Potter but that was a fairly common name, even they should know that. But thankfully Harry didn't to explain anything to these mad men because the ground opened up below him in a perfect circle.

But as they say, 'one sunrise after another' he didn't fall into black abyss that he did once before. No, this time it was as if he he had dropped through a kaleidoscope. Green, brass, orange colours and shapes fell through him creating pattens repeatedly. He stretched his arms and legs out in a winged formation. He squinted his eyes trying to get a more direct view of where he was going, he spotted distantly at the end of the line a white light. He closed his eyes to fasten himself for the blinding white that was sure to come but as usual that unexpected happened. There was neither a eye shattering light nor and discomforting thump of his body hitting the ground. Instead he go the full throttle force of something silky, soft perhaps a bit thorny.

He looked all around him and saw feathers floating and falling all about this well lit room. He was so distracted that he completely missed the sight of a pale blonde girl adorned in a dress almost as white as her skin.

"Harry Potter." She said dreamily. Harry jumped slightly in surprise although it didn't show on his face thankfully.

"How is it you have came to land in my bed?" Her eyes were wide and blue, something about her was absolutely surreal. It took him a few moments to overcome his shock and actually register what she said. And then he reacted looking down at this den of feathers bewildered.

"This is your bed?" He asked lamely, he already knew the answer because she had obviously just told him.

She came up to him and lent him a hand to remove himself from the pit. He looked up at her shyly, how embarrassing to invade someone's home like this.

"I'm sorry for dropping in like this." He cringed at how terribly literal that really was. She ignored his embarrassment and continued to smile pleasantly at him.

"My you are so young, with so much responsibility forced upon you." She brushed his hair back from his forehead, but unlike the other times this happened he found he didn't mind so much as this gentle stranger peered at his scar.

"It is both a gift and a curse..." she trailed off her fingers gently tracing the lightning bolt.

"Did you know, Harry, the lightning bolt is the symbol of Zeus?" She phrased like a question but he didn't answer, instead he returned it with a question of his own.

"Who are you?" He asked her in the same gentle tone she was addressing him if not softer, he felt though if he were to speak too harshly the sheer intensity of words could crack this porcelain woman into pieces.

"Luna." She said simply withdrawing from Harry.

"But it seems our time is drawing to a close. It's a shame, I was hoping we could talk properly." She took a couple steps away from the perplexed boy.

"I await to see you again _just_ Harry." Harry didn't get to say another word to her and he was plunged into darkness and quickly landing next to a familiar gazebo.

"You have got to be kidding me." He muttered rubbing his head and picking himself up. As Harry left the park that day he decided that no, he will not be returning lest he get more mind bending dreams. Yes, _dreams_ because what else could it have been? Magic? He chuckled bitterly to himself as a picture of a red faced uncle Vernon appeared screaming in his might _'there is no such thing as magic!_'

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Well this chapter was fairly shorter than the previous, some more information revealed this chapter. Still pretty vague! Thanks to '**Anna**' for reviewing on my very first chapter! The difference is perspectives was to show how unrealistic and surreal this change in timezones is for Harry where as for Tom it is simply his own world, where he lives. The people faded for Harry because the link between the scar and Tom was closing but Tom could see the crack because the link was allowing him a visual on the what was transporting Harry, as to why that is, well that's another part of the plot that you'll find out eventually.

Feel free to ask question at your own risk, although some I cannot answer simply because they play a vital role in upcoming events (at least they should, I have already written down upcoming parts to future chapters)


	3. 3: Say you, Say me

Yahoo! A shot chapter to sort of finish up the pre Hogwarts years. Yes, Harry does lack a sense of wonder I assume it's because he was forced act as a live in house maid for the Dursley family from a young age. Also I'm glad some of you find my name amusing, Attention Deficit Disorder was already taken so I had to make due.

* * *

Harry declared that he would never return to that strange well kept park in the forest lest he becomes trapped in a world where crazy masked mad men abduct him to be their king. He pictured himself briefly cloaked and masked standing shorter amongst the crowd with a crown upon his head. "Hence forth to battle!" his would squeak out with a mighty sword raised to an opposing army which would be made entirely out of monsters and ogres from every fairytale in existence.

He shook his head vigorously to rid himself of the thoughts. No way that's an impossible dream_ (or rather he should say nightmare.)_ But yes it was all very simple, going to the park must have triggered some kind of reaction which lead to the strange visions. And that was exactly how Harry left these those thoughts and how he would have left them, untouched in the back of his mind only coming up on occasion. But unfortunately that just wouldn't do.

**Chapter 3**

Harry was gardening, although what that really meant was that Harry was mowing and pulling the weeds as the sun glared bitterly at every inch of flesh available. Whether he was sweating because of the unwanted exposure or because of the sheer heat would remain a mystery to him.

And as much of a bother it all was Harry could at least remain grateful that his aunt allowed him to use a pair of over sized garden gloves, he had half expected her to say no when he asked that morning but today it seemed she was feeling lenient.

He continued digging about the hedges that lined the wooden fences which separated the properties from each other. If he finished quickly he'd be able to get out of this sun faster. After plucking the last of the weeds he lifted himself of the ground to admire the garden he basically spent his childhood creating. Wiping the sweat of his forehead Harry merrily opened the door to the Dursley household to get his ice cold glass of water that he so dearly deserved.

With a bright smile and a good mood he fell straight into a familiar black hole. _What?_

He was frozen, not in the literal sense that his blood had chilled and he was now incapable of movement but he was truly frozen in the way that suddenly the world disappeared from his head, his eyes unfocused and he just couldn't bring himself to move. In simpler words Harry had become very shocked. It didn't make sense, this only happened at the park! It wasn't supposed to happen when he was going about his day, did this weird phenomenon want him to die of dehydration?

When he was hit with the thump signifying arrival to wherever he exactly was he was unsure if he really wanted to get up, so he didn't. Harry just laid there stiffly. Perhaps if he didn't move the ground would drop him back to the Dursleys and get his blasted drink. He rolled his eyes around the room from his position.

Grey. It must be like the first world he saw. He lifted himself from the ground (noting it was hard wood) and took in a proper view of the room. It was awfully bleak, everything was colourless. Considering how simple and practical the room was, consisting of a bed, window, and a cabinet closet the characterless shading of the room suited it while made Harry unsure if he really had been deprived from one of his senses.

Being here felt like being inside a black and white film with the exception of high definition. The door opened revealing a young boy with a book tucked under his arm who froze at the entrance upon seemingly seeing Harry. Harry in turn perked up feeling a little excited, he waved and flailed his arms at the boy.

"Hello! Can you see me?" He called into the silence.

The book quickly turned around and shut his door gently. Straight away he made his way to the bed tucked into the corner of the room, completely ignoring Harry's existence. The boy was also black and every step he made to the shutting of his door was disturbingly quiet. This confirmed two of three things.

One, Yes he was colour blind.

Two, He was also death.

Three, He was all and all a ghost. Unless the boy was a jack ass and purposely ignored Harry. But who would do that when a stranger is in their room anyway.

Harry peered at the boy curiously, it was a strange sort of unintentional voyeurism to be here unseen. In a more secret part of Harry's mind he would admit it made him feel powerful . Looking around there was nothing particularly interesting going on or to look at other than the boy laying on the bed reading. Harry realised that the guy looked awfully familiar. He had long lashes that appeared heavy and thick when downcast on his book. His nose was pointy and straight and his hair combed and neat, overall the boy looked perfect. When Harry said perfect he meant it in a sense that everything about the boy was well kept and organised, his manner of sitting, the way he flipped a page looked elegant, how all his features were symmetrical. Compared to Harry's messy hair and crooked glasses the boy looked to be the perfect picture.

The boys eyebrows furrowed, it seemed perplexed. It made Harry wonder what exactly he was reading. He tilted his head to try and catch a good glimpse at the title which he found out was "Introduction to Anthropology." Anthro-what. Harry did a double take at the boy, surely he was no older than Harry, give or take a year.

Harry could swear the boys hand gripped the book harder as he was trying to read the title. Suspicious, he edged closer to the boy waving a hand in front of his eyes and whispering in his ear.

"Can you see me?" The boy shivered but he didn't didn't show any further acknowledgement.

Harry however was still unconvinced but backed away. A more devious part of his mind said he should haunt the poor 'unsuspecting' fellow. He looked at the boy again, there was no denying it, he had seen this boy before. _But where_. The image of a capped young lad sitting by a fountain appeared in his head.

"You're that boy from two years ago!" He shouted into the silence although it hadn't actually been two years yet. Harry figured how long exactly it had been while he was pointing at the other in an accusing manner. Oh, that's right, the other boy apparently couldn't hear or see him anyway.

But he felt so sure that this was the same boy who saw him when he was seven. If it was the same person then why did he insist of ignoring Harry! But then as he though about it more logically, even if this was the same boy who had apparently been looking in his direction that time it didn't necessarily mean that he was actually seeing Harry. It could all very much be a coincidence. Coincidences, so misleading and annoying but not impossible.

The door opened revealing a modestly dressed middle aged woman. She was talking to the boy on the bed but Harry couldn't hear what she was saying, confirming what he already guessed was true, he was death here. She came marching right through Harry to rip the book from the boys grasp. The woman appeared to be scolding the boy, he finger shaking animatedly making the whole scenario look almost comical.

The book she was holding in her still hand suddenly flew out and upwards straight into Harry's head.

_10 points._

He couldn't have stopped that thought even if he tried.

However humorous he took the situation it was apparent the woman, victim to the books short temper was absolutely aghast with shock. She stumbled backwards pointing at the boy on the bed whose expression was deceitfully angelic. The woman turned on the tail sprinting out of the room faster than she came in. She forgot that book she so rudely snatched.

The boy got up from the bed and walked calmly towards the discarded book by Harry's feet. He gently lowered himself down, Harry could swear he saw the boys eyes linger on his own as he picked up the book.

_Who are you._

Harry stared at the boy who retreated back to his bed in the corner of the room. How Harry wished he could have heard what really went down in this room. He didn't even squeak when he felt himself fall.

When Harry felt the thump he saw he was back in the Dursley's household. Lying very uncomfortably at the doorway.

"What are you doing!" Petunia shrilled as she came across her nephew laying by the door.

"That is a door boy, not a seat!" She ushered him into the kitchen to help her prepare dinner.

* * *

Harry spent a lot of time thinking about the past three events (or rather four, but he combined meeting the blonde lady with meeting the mad man seeing as it happened in the same instance). Over half a year had past since he been in that black and white room with the boy he was sure he saw the first time, Harry was now almost ten years old. He couldn't find the heart to dismiss them as dreams any longer but he also didn't have the sense of wonder to accept them as reality. He fidgeted nervously at the idea that he had gone mad. But wouldn't someone who was insane accept these visions as the truth with no doubt in their mind? Harry had plenty of doubts so he couldn't possibly be mad! Could he? It's not like anyone every told him how to know if he was crazy.

He sighed in frustration and maybe just a hint of resignation. Harry sat up with wobbly legs after sitting on the street path for so long after school. The sun in the sky was beginning to turn orange signifying the he'd best return to the Dursleys. To his shock however standing between him and the pathway home was a very familiar boy. _That boy_. He was wearing grey short and sock that reached his knees.

Harry now knew that the hair on his head wasn't actually black, it was just a very dark brown. His skin was almost as pasty as it was it black in white though.

They both watched each other eerily.

"Please tell me I'm not insane. Oh god, I am insane." Harry groaned to himself. Something Harry did notice that he'd never realised before was the tingling sensation in his scar. It prickled under his skin much like pins and needles. That didn't usually happen did it?

Harry cautiously walked up to the old fashioned boy until he was within a reaching distance. He touched the boy lightly noticing with disappointment his hand passed right through the body.

The boys face held something akin to irritation, probably not appreciating Harry swishing his hand through him. "

Hello?" Harry whispered and the boy took no notice. He simply shrugged his shoulders at whatever Harry said and looked worriedly at his own hands. He was clenching and unclenching his fists, his eyes would dark around curiously. The boy opened his mouth to say something even though no sound came out.

He looked at Harry intensely but the look didn't last long he fell into a black hole beneath him. Harry peered over but didn't dare to jump in after him, he may be curious but he wasn't insane, well maybe he was, but he didn't want to confirm that. Ever.

The hole closed, the boy was still looking up at Harry to the very last moment. It made Harry wonder what would happen to this boy now, would he fall into a crazy land or meet a mysterious blonde lady like he had.

Maybe that boy was the Harry Potter those mad men were looking for.

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Well I hope I didn't make any typos because I was too tired to edit and too excited to not update. Soz y'all.


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